It is your birthday. [[Everyone->Everyone]] has come and brought you a [[beautiful cake->The Cake is Not a Lie]]. [[Blow out the candles.->Candles]]
Your cake is a double-chocolate affair with little [[miniature figures->Minifigures]] made of icing on top of it and the [[words->Blow me out]] "MAKE A WISH" written across it in bold red letters.
[["Blow out the candles, Jared!"->Candles]] [[everyone->Everyone]] says, watching you expectantly.
You take a deep breath and blow out the candles on your cake.
"NO! NO! Not THOSE candles!" cries everyone in horror, minus Morgana(if: $Deity is not "Known")[ the quantumsorceress], who vanishes into thin air. Your cake collapses into a black hole, tearing the very fabric of spacetime apart.
"Jarreeeeeeeed," whines Marvin, "we trusted you!"
"Yeah man, what the heck? The whole agency was on the line!" cries your co-worker Edgebert, as he's sucked into nothingness.
"Take a pictch!" is all Flimrose(if: $Flim is not "Known")[, your ice cream caterer says](else:)[ says], holding up his iPhone.
And thus, the last thing you see before you, the partygoers, the room, and a significant portion of the galaxy is sucked into the rapidly growing black hole that once was your cake is the little flash of an iPhone webcam.
Everyone has come to your birthday party. Edgebert, Marvin, Jeb, [[Flimrose the penguin->Flimrose>]], Morgana the self-proclaimed goddess of destruction. Everybody's here. And they've made you a lovely [[cake->The Cake is Not a Lie]] .
[["Blow out the candles, Jared!"->Candles]] they all cry, grinning like as many emojis.
(set: $Deity = "Known")
Upon closer inspection, you see that the figures depict all the great people who have come to your party, from Marvin the Marvin to the many-tentacled Edgebert. You do notice, however, the notable exclusion of [[Morgana the goddess of destruction->Morgana]] from among them, even though she is one of your principle guests.
[["Blow out the candles!"->Candles]] everyone repeats, their smiles becoming rather [[rigid->Rigid Smiles]] with strain.
You are, of course, an agent of Brighter Future™, a top-secret underground agency dedicated to fighting against the [[spacetime terrorists and time traveling hoodlums->Spacetime Terrorists]] who are destroying the galaxy. Today is your [[biggest mission->Your Mission]], in fact; the sort of culmination of all your life as you know it.
[["Blow out the candles, Jared!"->Candles]] everyone persists, still smiling (minus Jeb, who's begun to scowl).
(set: $Agents to "Known")
The galaxy's a pretty big mess, really. Taxes are high, hyperhighways out of repair, companies racially prejudiced against penugins, iPhones still annoyingly prevalent, and [[spacetime terrorists->Spacetime Terrorists]] rampant. Oh, and [[Frozen's still popular->Disney Reigns]].
It's a hard life.
Flimrose is the ice cream catering guy. He's an emasculated New Zealandish Blue Penguin raised in New York by some Mr. Pauper guy or something. The [[Walt Disney Catering Service (Inc.)->Disney Reigns]] holds the prejudiced belief that all penguins come from cold climates, so they make great use of them in delivering and marketing their frozen food products.
(set: $Flim to "Known")
The words are cheery and inviting, though for some reason the drippy icing they are written in reminds you pointedly of blood. The whole cake, in fact, has a rather unsettling air, from the icing [[figures->Minifigures]] upon it to the [[peculiar flames->Weird Candles]] of its candles.
[["Cummon, Jared, blow out the candles!"->Candles]] everyone says again, this time a bit more insistently.
Spacetime terrorism is a serious problem in the modern galaxy. Ever since the invention of time machines, quantum warpfields, and rage-inducing donuts, nutcase maniacs have made it their business to run around the galaxy's timeline and wreck havoc. [[Morgana->Morgana]] is actually one of the most famous of these pyschopaths. But you're [[aware of that->Your Mission]].
[["Blow. Out. The. CANDLES!"->Candles]] everyone shouts. The people who only came for [[the food->The Cake is Not a Lie]] are getting [[fidgety with their knives->Rigid Smiles]].
The truth is, you've invited [[Morgana->Morgana]](if: $Deity is not "Known")[, the self-proclaimed goddess of destruction,(set: $Deity to "Known")] to your birthday party to try and apprehend her. With the entirety of your agency in one place, she couldn't pass up the possibility of coming and trying to stage some kind of apocalyptic event to kill you all. She is one of the most powerful quantumsorcerers ever born, but luckily you've been given a special [[disguised weapon->Secret weapon]] to neutralize her with.
[["BLOW OUT THE FREAK'N CANDLES ALREADY, JARED!" shouts Jeb, and everyone nods in agreement.->Candles]]
Over the past few centuries the Walt Disney Company has greatly expanded from its origins as a film studio, transforming into a major galactic superpower and handling everything from [[tax levying->Taxation Cake]] to catering. As an organization that runs both theme parks and [[prison camps->Galactic Prisons]], not to mention the Galactic Revenue Service, their public image has fallen somewhat, so they've been trying to push their classic products from back when they made movies, to pull nostalgia heart strings. Products like [[Frozen->Frozen death]].
Because, of all things, it had to be Frozen.
Morgana Aiatova is a pyschopathic (if: $Deity is not "Known")[self-proclaimed deity](else:)[woman] from Alpha Centauri who has unraveled many dark, destructive secrets of quantumsorcery and, coincidentally, baked [[the cake->Weird Candles]] for your party. Most of your guests are trying to figure out why you'd even invite such a maniac to your birthday, let alone eat her cake, but you and your (if: $Agents is not "Known")[[[fellow agents->Hope]]](else:)[fellow agents] know it's all [[part of the plan->Your Mission]].
[["BLOW OUT THE FREAK'N CANDLES ALREADY, JARED!"->Candles]] shouts Jeb, a particularly aggressive guest with a hammer and a tendency to hit people. Everyone nods in expectant agreement.
Your guests are becoming quite edgy, fiddling about with napkins and silverware with a mixture of boredom and repressed rage. [[Morgana's->Morgana]] trying to occupy herself with a [[dark orb->Dark Orb]] of destructive energy, and Jeb's [[methodically shattering all the glasses on the table one by one with his hammer->Jeb's a Maniac]] to kill time, but everybody's still keeping their eyes on you.
They all want you to [[blow out the candles.->Candles]]
Since quantum weapons are usually pretty easy to detect, the agency has had to make some odd sacrifices to make yours as unnoticable as it has to be to take Morgana by surprise. Due to varous scientific laws you don't understand, it happens to look like a tiny candelabra, which, while not exactly an innocuous disguise, at least hides how powerful it is. You've managed to pass it off as a gimicky decoration on your hat. [[Gimics really are the saviors of the galaxy->Gimics Shall Save Us]].
In fact, now that you about think it, the candelabra's candles may be the ones everyone's talking about. Maybe you should [[blow them out->Extinguishing]].
(set: $Gimic to "weapon")
Feeling like Jeb's behaviour deserves some comment, you snap out of your reverie and tell Jeb to snap out of whatever violent, pyscho world he's living in.
"I'M JEB!" he yells, with proud protest, slamming you in the face with his massive hammer. Everything goes black, and the screams of your guests are the last thing you hear before you sink away into everlasting nothingness.
As you take a better look at your cake, it occurs to you the candles on it don't very much look like real candles. The flames, rather than being bright and cheery, are dark and looming, like gaping holes in the very fabric of the universe. You initially thought they were just some kind of lightless fire [[gimic->Gimics Shall Save Us]], but you're wondering if they're actually something more sinister. Your cake was baked by [[Morgana->Morgana]](if: $Deity is not "Known")[, the goddess of destruction], after all. In fact, the candle flames look an awful lot like the [[orb of dark energy->Dark Orb]] she's playing with.
[["BLOW OUT THE CANDLES, YOU TURTLEHEAD!"->Candles]] shouts Jeb, waving an enormous hammer as if ready to clobber your slowmoving face.
In fact, due to The Mouse's new obscenely high Cake Tax, you've had to buy a contraband cake from (if: $Deity is not "Known")[a self-proclaimed deity of chaos named Morgana](else:)[Morgana]. You hardly feel comfortable eating a cake made by a murderous quantumsorcerer, but, of course, that's [[not really your intention, anyway->Your Mission]]. This whole party is, in fact, a clever ploy, a clever ploy that involves candles.
"JARED! [[BLOW OUT THE @#%! CANDLES->Candles]] SO WE CAN HAVE CAKE!" roars Jeb, swinging his hammer [[and knocking out another partygoer->Jeb's a Maniac]] in his rage.
As if the idea of a Disney-run prison camp wasn't bad enough, they aren't even really effective, since the invention of time travel has pretty much nullified the meaning of classic imprisonment. Sure, you can get locked away in one time, but your future (or past) self almost always finds a way to break you out or continue your work.
The most famous of such convicts is, naturally, [[Morgana Aiatova->Morgana]], who has been imprisoned 6,247 times, not including her incarcerations in alternate universes. She is also, incidentally, a guest at your birthday party. Most of your [[guests->Rigid Smiles]] think you're nuts to invite such a maniac, and are even more surprised she showed up, but you have [[your reasons->Your Mission]].
"Dude, are you freak'n deaf? [[BLOW OUT THE CANDLES!->Candles]]" roars another partygoer.
It suddenly occurrs to you it's not very safe to have an accomplished quantumsorceress(If: $Deity is not "Known")[, not to mention a self-proclaimed deity,] playing with a dark orb of spacetime-warping energy at your birthday party. You try to say something about this, turning to Morgana with an accusatory air, but as soon as the words are out of your mouth she throws the orb at your face, blows out your candles herself, and vanishes. As your head is warped into nothingness by her superspace projectile, you watch your now-extinguished cake collapse into a black hole and devour the entire party.
"What a faux pas!" shouts Flimrose(if: $Flim is not "Known")[, your penguin ice cream caterer], "She blew out his candles!"
Solemnly taking off your party hat, you inhale deeply and blow out the candelabra, aiming your breath towards Morgana. She starts, looking up from the minature black hole she was playing with, before being forcibly transformed into a oatmeal biscuit and sucked into another dimension. A million past and present Morganas leap into the room to stop this, only to be sucked into the same vortex.
With a resounding *vlfrrrp*, all versions of the goddess of destruction from all timelines vanish, leaving you alone with your friends. They erupt into applause (minus Jeb, who's just confused).
"Well done, agent!" says Edgebert.
"Happy birthday, Jared!" says Marvin.
"Take a pictch!" exclaims Flimrose(if: $Flim is not "Known")[, your penguin ice cream caterer], raising his iPhone.
In an infinite universe, gimics allow you to (if: $Gimic is "weapon")[[[pass off anything as anything->Secret weapon]]](else:)[[[do or make pretty much anything and convince people it's cool->Weird Candles]]]. Even if not bothering to put on pants is somewhat frowned upon in your part of the galaxy, it's bound to be a gimic *somewhere*, so you can get away with it. Thanks to the infinite diversity of the universe and the power of galaxy-wide social media, gimics have, essentially, destroyed all social demands and expections.
It's both wonderful and horrible at the same time.
Unfortunately, simply recalling the existence of the movie Frozen for more than a few seconds gets "Let it Go" stuck in your head, the song echoing in your brain so strongly and so pointedly after all the times you've heard it on Supermental Broadcasters that you're literally pushed over the brink of insanity.
You spend the rest of your life in a pyschiatric ward ripping up Olaf dolls.